Iron Heart
by Deadderson
Summary: 50 years after the pass of Thread, peace has settled on the land. But a new threat has appeared, can the dragon riders stop it without war breaking out?
1. Chapter 1

Spring was early, revealing itself in the first calm night as the last of the rains drifted away. The air was balmy and warm, and the moon itself was present to welcome the first breeze of spring as it wafted down over the hills and into the valley. Night birds called to one another, their songs joined by a chorus of insects and other animals that wished to join the quiet symphony of the woods. As the breeze danced over the trees, their leaves applauded the retreat of winter, shimmering in the silvery moonlight.

The wind paused for only a moment, when suddenly a great rush of wind blasted over the trees, bending the tops over as a shadow raced over them, blotting out the moon briefly. The resounding cries of the birds were deafened by a earth shattering roar, followed by another blast of wind, then another set of giant wings.

 _Dragons_.

Clad in heavy iron armor, the beasts heaved as they flew over the valley, racing to meet their master in time. On top of the dragons, riders whipped them on, fighting terror of their own. The dragons screamed in agony, huffing as their muscles ached, pushed to their limit. But still they flew, spurred by their riders and the desperation of their flight.

Finally, a familiar green beacon appeared just before them, and the riders pushed the beasts down, nearly colliding with trees and jagged outcroppings. Barely keeping the dragons from collapsing, the riders pressed forward to the clearing where more armored dragons sat in the glowing light of the beacon, their riders already in the glade where they were expected. One rider swore, startling the other as they landed. Dread settled over the both of them, hastening their actions as they leapt off their dragons and rushed down the path to where the other riders waited. The path was dimly lit, making the journey far more treacherous. But that was the least of their concerns as they tripped over roots and stones.

The circle of riders that greeted them as they broke into the glade was less than welcoming, and cold terror gripped the two errant riders as they joined the group. Fifteen other riders, armored to the teeth in heavy plating, stared at the two as silence fell over the circle again. They waited for a bit, and the two riders resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably as the circle broke open at the far end, letting their leader into the center. They gulped when he paused, looking around at all of the riders, resting his gaze on them last.

"You're late."

It was merely a statement, yet the air grew cold as they fought not to scream and weep at the deep gravelly voice. Despair rattled their bones as the other riders turned their eyes to them now, icy from wrath and amusement. Their leader, a giant in his own right, approached them till he towered over them, dwarfing the two riders. His plated armor clanked dully, and shadows covered what wasn't hidden by iron.

"The assignment?" He asked, his voice reverberating the earth they stood on. Their knees shook, threatening to buckle as he waited for their answer. When none came, he growled, pulling out the great sword from its scabbard at his side.

"Kneel."

They could not resist his order. Heavily, they dropped to their knees, heads bowing in despair as he tread to their side. With little effort, he heaved the sword over their necks, and swung it down. The blade buried itself in the soft earth from the force with a thud. The heads of the unfortunate duo bounced once, rolling towards the circle of riders as their bodies slumped to the ground. As he pulled the weapon out of the ground, he turned to the rest of the riders, wiping the blade on the cape of the nearest dead rider.

"Any others who wish to join them?" His voice growled, and a collective shiver ran through the riders, though it was hidden by their armor. He sheathed his sword in a huff, then stormed through the circle again. They gave him a wide berth, unwilling to come closer to his deadly reach.

"Another failure will not be tolerated," he snapped, and the riders went rigid. He pointed to one of them, and snarled at the quivering man. "Send to Zeref that we are behind and require more of the Rhodonite." The rider couldn't run fast enough with his heavy armor, and scrambled away towards the dragons that waited by the beacon.

"As for the rest of you sorry lot," he began, turning to face them. "The goal is the same. The villages continue to hide Firestone for that blasted Weyr, thus you're to remove it by any means necessary." The helmet hiding his face couldn't hide the malice and scorn in his voice. "If they refuse, burn them all."

.

.

Across the mountains, a girl tossed in her bed, restless as nightmares plagued her. Around her, the night remained peaceful as the wind gently rustled the wind chime that hung in her petite window. Barely after midnight, the moon had begun to rise over the tallest peak on the horizon, casting silver over the bay as the tide rolled in. The sound of waves gently crashing on the rocks echoed through the polished little town, joining the wind as it whistled through the streets. Little frogs chirped their displeasure as leaves whipped past them, disturbing their perches. In the distant tower, the watch yawned wearily as his watch-wher blinked lazily, bored of its nightly routine.

In the fifty years that followed the last Thread Pass, little villas cropped up over the hillsides, taking advantage of the temporary safety in the absence of the red star. Land that had remained barren of life during the Pass suddenly blossomed and filled with new movement, filling the air with promise. Weyr holds that still flew their dragons found themselves converting from warriors in the sky to practitioners of justice and politics. Most found the chore distasteful if not terribly boring, and turned to sky games to avoid becoming too idle. Weyrs would compete every spring, hosting large gatherings that promised the same thrill as fighting thread.

Others had found the new peace dull, and refused to take part in the games, resorting to warmongering and terror as their new means of entertainment. Many abandoned their Weyrs to join factions that thrived on destroying villages that popped up in their territory. As a result, dragon riders found themselves involved in messy skirmishes that more than often became far too violent. As a last resort, Makarov of Fairy Tail Weyr led his dragon riders in an effort to quash the dissenters, successfully banishing them to far lands on the promise that the dragons under his Weyr would destroy them should they return. And thus, another new, yet unsteady peace fell on the land again.

But the nightmares of the past haunted the girl as she jolted awake, gasping as sweat soaked her thin night shirt. She whipped her head around the room, searching for the shadows that threatened to swallow her should she look away. As the seconds passed, the calmness of the night settled around her, and she breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing her palm against her chest.

"A dream... it was just a dream," she whispered, gulping back tears as she flopped back on the bed. She raked a hand through her wild hair that had been disturbed by her tossing and turning. The wind shifted, and a tinkle of noise drew her eyes to the chime. She considered it for a time as it swung in the breeze, and she could feel her body relax again. She nibbled her lip as a soft gust brushed her cheek, easing her back into a drowsiness. Entranced by the glittery metal, she was lulled back to a dreamless sleep.

.

.

Levy Mcgarden yawned, stretching out at the table as her bowl of gruel was plopped down in front of her unceremoniously. After a muttered thanks to the server, she paused before she dug in, mouth pursed as she contemplated the cold meal. It was hardly any better warm, and the weak tea that complemented her breakfast did little to waken her.

' _Certainly not something I'll miss_ ,' she thought, sighing as she shoved a spoonful of gruel into her mouth, grimacing as she gulped it down. ' _But better than nothing for a trip home_.' She sighed wistfully, memories of hearty stews and flavorful trays of meats dancing in her head. She could almost smell the aroma of the winery as well, and made a mental note to grab a cupful of the delicacy as soon as she was home. The Scriptor hall offered many things of education, however, delicious meals was not one of them.

She licked her lips in anticipation, then sighed as she downed the last of her meal. ' _There's plenty of time to daydream of home later on_ ,' she admonished herself, pushing herself up from the table. She took a quick glance around the dining hall before turning to leave, noting that some of the early risers were finally sitting down for their own breakfast. She hid a smirk as she watched their faces turn from excitement to a disappointed frown when the same gruel was plopped down in front of them. Idly she wondered if they would improve the meals after she had left the hold, then internally shook her head as she wandered to her last class of her education.

The Scriptor's Hall was well known throughout the land, despite it being one of the smallest of the teaching holds. It certainly wasn't as large as the Harper Hall, nor as important. But where the Harper Hall offered the basics in writing, the Scriptor Hall expanded in languages, astronomy, history, restoration of old documents, and accounting. And for the last four years, Levy had learned just about everything she could, soaking it up faster than a sponge to water.

She had a certain fondness for the older languages, especially the dead draconic language that was no longer used in most circles. Much to her tutors' derision, she had learned the runes far faster than they had been able to teach her, thus allowing her to surpass them easily. She grinned, remembering the day the head of the runes class had thrown her a rather evil look as she skipped about his class, tutoring the other students in his own class. What cheek she had shown him! Only the Rune Master's tolerance had saved her from any real punishment that she might've faced.

She sighed as she passed through the Rune Hall, drinking in the sight of the last sunrise she was likely to witness at the academy. She had gotten used to the taste of salt in the air of the early morning breeze, and she closed her eyes as a gust wafted over her, rustling her already wild locks even more than they had been that morning. Pausing in her trek to enjoy the smell, she idly wondered if she would miss the sea as much as she had missed the mountain air of Magnolia.

She was expecting her two dearest friends to arrive later on that afternoon, Jet and Droy. They would travel back to the Weyr together the same way they had escorted her to the Scriptor's Hall at the beginning. She couldn't imagine how they had changed during the years they had been apart and was eager to catch up. Letters had been exchanged, and messages via fire lizards had been passed on, but Levy hadn't seen how they had grown. She wondered if they would be surprised or disappointed by her rather sad state of growth, barely topping the youngest of scribes. Even the girls just reaching their maturing age looked more womanly than her!

' _Hopefully they'll see past that and remember how much fun we've had_ ,' she thought, sighing disparagingly. They indeed had a lot of fun together as children, despite all of the mischief and trouble they had been known for. But they had just as quickly been forgiven when Levy had flashed her doe eyes at the Weyr leader, grinning cheekily behind his back while planning their next great adventure. She chuckled, shaking her head at the memories as she reached the Rune Master's study.

She knocked once, then pushed the door, quietly greeting him as the old man looked up from his stack of papers. He regarded her before indicating that she'd take the open seat in front of him. Bowing her head lightly, she slid into the seat, smiling as she recounted the many times she had been in this particular seat for her transgressions. The hall hadn't been as kind as Makarov, and she learned rather quickly that her impertinence led to harsher punishments.

Today, however, the Rune Master was smiling kindly at her, setting his paper down and folding his hands on the desk. He was younger than Makarov, yet the years hadn't been as kind to him. Guilt gnawed in her gut as she had more than likely contributed to his poor health.

"So today's the day you graduate, eh?" He chuckled, and grinned at her. "I suppose that this'll be the last time I see you in front of me like this, correct?" As she nodded, he reached over and plucked a sheet of parchment off a stack not far away and handed it to her.

"It's been a long time since I've seen a student graduate from this hall with such a high score," he began, pride lacing his voice. Levy ducked her head shyly as she took the sheet from him, bashful. "Especially one who gave us a bit of trouble at the beginning." At that, Levy's modest smile turned sheepish, yet the kindness never left the Rune master's voice.

"But I'm very happy to say that you are one of the few that have mastered the skills so quickly, and that I'm proud of how far you've come," he finished, nodding at the paper. "With that, you have officially been assigned to Fairy Tail Weyr to apprentice under the Scriptors there."

Levy could barely contain her grin, and nearly jumped from her seat in joy. It was what she had dreamed of, and she couldn't wait to show what she had learned to her friends and family. Even the old men who had scolded her for sneaking into the library would be impressed!

"There's just one thing, however," the voice of the Rune Master broke through her joy, bringing her back to the present moment. She blinked at the sudden seriousness of his tone.

"Master?" She asked, tilting her head inquisitively. He was only stern when scolding her, and she wondered if she was to receive another one for a reason she couldn't fathom. But he merely shook his head at her before taking in a deep breath.

"We've gotten a message that rogue riders are attacking villages again, thus Makarov is sending Dragon Riders to pick you up." His voice had gotten softer then, laced with worry. Levy's throat dried instantly, and she gulped nervously as her heart thudded heavily. She clenched her fists lightly in her lap, then discreetly wiped away the sweat from her palms. She inhaled lightly, fighting to keep the anxiety from showing as she faced her teacher.

"I'm sure there was no other way, right?" She asked, keeping her voice light. Makarov didn't decide things on a whim, and if he was set on a decision, everyone else would follow without a doubt. The Rune Master confirmed it by slowly nodding at her, grimacing.

"I know that it's not ideal to what you had hoped for, but at least they'll get you back faster and safer than just riding on horse back," he explained. "I suppose you'll just have to bear with it for now, I know you don't like dragons."

 _Don't like dragons?_ That was a bit of an understatement in Levy's mind. She feared them, and always had since she had been brought to Fairy Tail as a small child. Flashes of smoke and noise flited through her mind before she dismissed them quickly, refusing to succumb to the memories. She had avoided the riders for the most part at the Weyr, ducking out of sight whenever she heard their laughter. As she grew older she knew that it was unreasonable, but she couldn't help but tremble whenever she heard the great flap of wings in the sky. She couldn't join the games that had been held in the spring, unable to cheer for what she was sure was a great sport.

And now, she was expected to not only face one of the dragons, but touch and ride on top of one? She inhaled again, licking her lips. If there was really no other way, then she would have to trust Makarov and bear it.

She paced the small platform, nervously chewing on her thumbnail as she waited, ignoring the attendants who chuckled at her anxiety as they waited with her. They'd be fine enough, she groused as she swept a nervous hand through her blue locks. They would only be receiving messages, not riding on the beasts themselves!

She huffed, whirling around again as she patted the riding gear she'd been given for the ride. It was far too small on her; better suited for a child rather than a tiny woman. Yet she couldn't fit into any other gear they had, and had to bite back tears of embarrassment as the smallest men's jacket had dwarfed her figure. There was no time at all to get fitted gear, and the trip in Between would leave her worse for wear if she had kept the larger jacket. As such, she resembled more of a child than her actual age.

She was lucky that at least one of her friends would be arriving with the riders. The names that she'd been given to expect were unknown to her, and she had panicked before she recognized Jet's name. ' _Thank goodness_ ,' she'd breathed in relief. She wasn't sure what was worse, expecting a stranger to pick her up, or riding a dragon. At least with Jet around, she could trust the rider to get them back home safely.

Hopefully.

Though she shied away from the dragons that flew over the hall, she hadn't remained willfully ignorant of them. During her free time people would often find her in the library, pouring over scrolls and books of draconic lore, torn between marveling at the stories of heroism and shuddering at the accounts of savagery during a Thread Fall or a mating flight. But the stories that stuck out the most to her were the accounts written by the riders themselves, describing how their dragons were more than just a mount. It was fascinating of how they would tell of pranks their dragons would pull, and how sensitive they could become to people and to other dragons. ' _Almost as though they were human themselves_ ,' she had mused thoughtfully then. But it had done little to keep the trembling at bay when she walked near the arena, roars filling the air as they flew over the crowds.

Still, she had learned a few useful things about them. She knew that their temperament was revealed through their eyes and body language, that their scaly skin needed constant oiling to prevent the icy cold of Between seeping in through cracks and hurting them. That their bond with their riders was lifelong and deeper than anyone could hope to describe, and when their rider died, they would retreat into Between forever. The death of a dragon could be equally catastrophic to their rider as well, as though half of their soul had been ripped away.

A distant roar tore her out of her thoughts, and she nearly yelped when she finally spotted a black form flying over the bay, bellowing a greeting to the watch-wher. Fresh from Between, the dragon swung easily from side to side, dipping low over the waters just before the shore. On his back, his rider was leaning low over his harness, while his passenger clung on for dear life. It was difficult to see what they looked like, no matter how much she squinted, trying to discover their appearance. Suddenly, one thing was very clear; the dragon was closer than she was ever comfortable with, and larger than she had expected.

The air was whooshing over her as she ducked low, shrieking briefly while they circled around the platform before the dragon finally landed. Behind her, the attendants laughed loudly as they approached the dragon, obviously amused by her reaction. She remained where she was, crouched in the farthest corner from the beast. She bit her lip, tears just behind her tightly closed eyes as her hands pressed over her ears. She couldn't do this, she couldn't! Her heart pounded as she gasped, nearly sobbing in terror.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder, startling her. She jumped, whirling to face the owner when she was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. Stunned, she could only blink when she was released, yet the man who hugged her held her shoulders, grinning good naturally. It then dawned on her that the man was Jet, who stood a good foot over her and had tied his rather long orange hair up, as opposed to how she remembered him.

"Levy! I missed you so much,' he was saying to her, and she offered him a shaky smile. She could hear the dragon preening itself from behind him, the scales chiming in a rather soothing sound. In comparison, his rider was growling at one of the attendants in a irritable tone, his voice sounding rather muffled for reasons she couldn't ascertain yet. But Jet's larger frame hid them from her sight for the moment, and she felt some relief as his familiar laughter rumbled through her.

"You sure haven't changed much, Levy," he said, holding her back and looking her over. As his eyes paused on the too small jacket, she could feel the heat of embarrassment flood her cheeks, and she shrugged, chuckling nervously.

"Didn't have anything in my size," she offered lamely, and he only laughed again, hugging her tight.

"Well, whatever, we still missed you," he said gently, but Levy wondered if he was disappointed in her lack of growth. She sighed, dismissing the thought as she finally hugged him back. She was about speak when the rider's gruff voice broke in and interrupted them, startling her. She had almost forgotten about him and his dragon. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she realized that she was about to encounter her worst fear; flying home rather than riding on horseback.

"Oi, get moving Speedy, we're on a tight schedule." The rider's voice was cleared this time, and a lot louder. Jet moved aside and she had her first glimpse of the rider. She gulped as she stared at him, almost moving to hide behind Jet shyly. He was dressed completely in black, matching his dragon. His goggles were placed over his helmet, revealing eyes that glinted red in the firelight. Silver studs twinkled from where they could be seen on his face, and he was huge. Levy gulped as he stared down at her, watching his expression go from incredulous to amused, and he stomped over to them, flashing rather sharp teeth in a grin. This time, Levy couldn't help the shudder and shied away behind Jet.

"So this is the beautiful Scriptor you were just bragging about?" He laughed, and Levy could feel his voice shake the wooden slats under them. "Ha! More like a timid little mouse by the looks of it. How old did you say she was?"

Levy bit her lip, fighting tears as fear turned to something she hadn't expected; anger. _How could he? Was he not aware of what an ass he was?_ She was about to pluck up her courage to snap at him when Jet beat her to it.

"Oh, shove off, Gajeel! Your opinion isn't needed here," he snapped, then turned to the petite girl, apologetically scratching his head. "Never mind him, Levy. Gajeel's like this most of the time, but he usually stays out of the safe areas," he said softly, and Levy perked up at that. ' _Safe areas_ ' had been their code for where ever the dragons weren't at, thus giving her a sense of ease in the Weyr. If what Jet said was true, then at least she didn't have to worry seeing the rider again.

Gajeel scoffed, rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to argue further, but snapped his head towards the dragon, responding to whatever was sent to him. Then he tsked, turning back to the duo.

"Regardless, we've got to get moving," he said gruffly as he pulled the goggles back over his eyes. Jet huffed in annoynace, but nodded curtly. Before Levy realized what was happening, Jet had grasped her shoulder and was steering her to the black dragon. She nearly balked when the great head swung towards her, his eyes swirling blue. Idly her mind wandered as she stared at them, mesmerized by the changing patterns of the color. Just then, she felt a slight touch in her conscious, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a deep yet warm voice floated through her.

' _Easy, little one. The others told me that you are not comfortable with my kind_.'

Levy gasped, bewildered when she realized that the dragon was speaking to her. Confused, she looked at his rider, who was currently jumping up and lacing himself into the saddle. The dragon rumbled underneath him, brushing her mind again as the rider reached over to pull her up. ' _Trust in my wings, little one. We will be home soon_ ,' he soothed, and Levy let out a shaky breath. It was hard to believe otherwise with his kind sounding words, a stark contrast to his rider. She'd never been close to a dragon of his size, and now she was being strapped to one. She never considered that one would be as kind or as compassionate as this one was. Behind her, Jet was lacing himself in as the attendants were handing Gajeel the last of their messages. He snorted as he stashed them in one of the satchels on the harness, ignoring the praising words from the impressed spectators.

"You better be lashed in fast, Speedy, cause we're leaving now."

The words had barely left his mouth when the dragon moved, and Levy squeaked as she lurched forward, smacking her head on his back before bouncing back into Jet's chest. As the dragon leapt off the platform, Levy whimpered as she whipped her arms around the rider's torso, squeezing her eyes tightly as she fought the urge to scream in terror. As they lifted into the sky, she could feel the muscles pull and contract under her. Suddenly he let out a deafening roaring, and she couldn't hold back the cry of fear as she squeezed the rider, powerless to do anything else as they soared into the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

Gajeel wondered if he could make the dent in the table any bigger, thanks to the constant pounding it received from his head. It sure didn't help the current problem he was facing, and added to the headache.

It started two weeks ago, just after he had picked up the little Scriptor. He winced slightly, remembering the sudden piercing scream she had let out as they took off, nearly deafening him and Panther. His sides were still recovering from the vice-like grip her arms had around him, and it was a wonder that he hadn't passed out from the lack of air. He hadn't expected the girl to have so much strength for her size, that was certain. Then again, she wasn't what he had expected at all. When his passenger, Jet, had been talking about her, he had painted her as a lovely woman. Gajeel was sure that both of them were surprised by the shivering little bundle that greeted them on the platform. He half thought it was a joke at first, until Jet rushed to her and embraced her warmly.

In fact, it was half a blessing that Makarov sent Jet, he wouldn't have believed the Weyr Leader in the first place. It certainly didn't help that the first words that popped out his mouth had been... well, _that_.

He grumbled to himself, wondering if Panther was going to lecture him again for such a greeting. He knew better, but he had been thrown for a loop that the foot fit perfectly in his mouth and stayed there permanently, it seemed. He couldn't blame her if she was avoiding him for that reason.

He rarely saw her since their return, even when he sought her out to apologize, but she seemed to know when he was coming and hid away, much to his irritation. He grumbled as he finally tossed the scroll away, leaning his head into his hands and sighing tiredly. He hadn't found many answers from the other Scriptors either, and after he had exhausted their help he had been left to his own devices. Not that it made any difference. Several hours later and he was right where he had started.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes and face tiredly before pushing himself away from the table, grumbling in disgust. He'd have to look elsewhere for the answers that Makarov wanted, and the old man didn't make it easy to begin with either.

It started when one of the survivors of the rogue dragon attacks mentioned Firestone, sending alarm throughout the Weyrs of the land. Using Firestone during a Thread free pass was prohibited, only to be saved for times when the silvery strands fell from the skies again. What was worse was that the dragons had been using it against innocent villages, killing many people as well as destroying livelihoods. Gajeel growled, images of smoking land seared into his memory as he and other riders flew overhead.

A soft presence brushed his mind, soothing the exhaustion away. He smiled then, relaxing somewhat as his stomach rumbled in eagerness. He stretched lazily, jumping in surprise when he glanced at the window. He'd only started in the mid afternoon, yet the window was now dark with the oncoming evening. He snorted as his stomach grumbled again, eager to be fed. He'd have to persuade one of the cooks to have mercy on him before throwing him out for missing the dinner bell.

' _Nothing still_?' Panther asked, interrupting his thoughts. He sounded bored, and Gajeel caught glimpses of a shimmering lake, a blue sky and green hills. Perfect flying weather.

' _Tch, nothing. Looks like you've had a great time though_ ,' he thought, nearly growling at the dragon. Panther merely rumbled happily, shrugging in his draconic way.

' _Next time I'll pull you out of the library so you can take a break from breaking your brain so much_ ,' Panther replied, huffing a chortle as Gajeel snorted.

' _Wouldn't be half as bad if I actually had a little help_ ,' he groused, folding his arms over his shoulder as he made his way through the shelves of dusty parchments. As he brushed by clouds of dust exploded around him, and he nearly choked as he breathed it in, waving his hand in front of his face.

' _Speaking of little_ ,' mused Panther, amusement in his voice. ' _There seems to be a tiny person following you aroun_ d.'

Gajeel froze mid step, senses immediately alert. He heard the tiny gasp and rustling from behind another shelf, as though someone ducked behind. Could it be...?

"Oi, if you're that new little Scriptor, I've been trying to find you for ages," he called out, hoping that she was listening. "I ain't gonna try to eat ya, only trying to apologize like a gent." He waited, listening for some response from her, hoping that he hadn't scared her off again. Panther crooned gently, obviously trying to aid in his persuasion. Finally there was a quiet cough, and he turned in the direction it came from.

She was peeking around the corner, her sky blue hair slightly dusty as well, but it was her eyes that stilled him. They were wide with anxiety, and glistened as she half ducked back behind the shelf. He could see her trembling, and sighed, nibbling his lip. She was clearly afraid of him, but the reason escaped him. He cleared his throat, and tried again.

"Look, if I did something worse than sticking my fat foot in my mouth then I'm sorry for that too," he said, craning his head to get a better look at the Scriptor. She ducked away again, her eyes never leaving him for a second. Only her hair stuck out from behind the shelf, a sign that she hadn't bolted yet. He sighed, then leaned gently on the shelf.

"Look, I ain't gonna hurt ya, but I ain't gonna go away either," he reasoned. He watched as the blue locks poked out even further, followed shortly by her face. He could feel Panther reach out to her, gently brushing her mind as he had on the platform weeks ago. She jumped slightly, then looked around wildly. Gajeel barely had time to smother a smirk as she turned her gaze on him again, curious yet distrustful.

"Panther won't hurt ya either, I promise ya that," he said gently, relief seeping through his shoulders when she poked her head out a little more. He nodded his chin at her, then smiled reassuringly. "You're called Levy, right?" He asked gently. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded slowly, and he grinned. "I'm Gajeel, rider of the black dragon, Pantherlily."

She merely blinked at him, and he took that as a sign to go on. "Panther would never even think to, it's taboo to hurt innocents," he repeated softly, and Panther added another soothing warble. He scratched the back of his neck, beginning to feel a bit awkward. She hadn't made a sound in response to either of them, yet she wasn't running from him either, which he was happy about. But to babble on like an idiot while waiting for her to make a move? Not something he was used to.

Something flickered in her eyes, and he nearly missed it as she looked away from him and began to study a nearby stack of parchment. Doubt? Accusation? He wasn't sure, but he would bet anything that something happened to her to make her fearful of him. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with the rogue riders that were warmongering today, even. It would explain a lot, actually, and help him discover how to help her.

Maybe it was pity, or compassion that drove him to want to help her, but he couldn't bear the thought that thanks to the rogue riders, more and more people would fear the dragon riders. And soon, it would be passed down till their descendants would reject the dragons when Thread returned. Fear often led to people doing foolish things, and became difficult to deal with when he tried to help them. Heavens only knew of how many times he had wanted to bash people over the head for their stupidity in those times rather than deal with it patiently, as Panther would try to have him do. But still, he had to try with the little Scriptor. Especially if there was a chance he could help undo some of the damage.

'Patience,' he told himself, ignoring Panther's rumble of agreement. He opened his mouth to reassure her again, but at that moment, a wayward puff of dust found its way into his lungs, and Gajeel sneezed.

Loudly.

He was sure that the shelves shivered due to the violence of his sneeze; he'd nearly been blasted off of his own feet with the intensity. He recovered in time to hear a pattering of footsteps retreating from him, and looking up only confirmed his fear; he had startled her.

' _Fuuuuuuuuck_ ,' he groaned, clunking his head against the shelf and sending up another cloud of the cursed stuff. Panther rumbled in laughter, much to his irritation.

' _Oh, shut up, you overgrown lizard_ ,' Gajeel growled, turning back to the exit of the library. And promptly sneezed again.

~~~*8*~~~

The dragon rider kept returning after that, much to her exasperation. Not that she was trying to hide from him. At least, not anymore. It seemed like since the day his dragon, Panther, touched her mind in an effort to soothe her, they were able to pinpoint where she was almost instantly. It seemed that tracking her wasn't the only thing the dragon was good at, either. The subtle brush on her mind from him was the only warning that the duo were on the hunt, allowing her time to draw in a shaky breath as she composed herself. However, it was still a little bit of a shock once the rider was talking to her once they found her.

Or rather, talking at her.

She hadn't quite worked up the courage to actually say anything to him other than muttered greetings and a few nervous squeaks in response to his remarks, though he seemed to understand and kept a rather respectable distance from her. He wasn't above sneaking in a few jokes, however, and often times left her fighting laughter as Panther would groan in her mind.

 _He was getting dangerously close to being likable_ , she mused one day as she sipped her klah. The rich and steamy smell brought relief after the day's tiring events, soothing the aching in her shoulders somewhat as she relaxed in the dining hall, waiting for Lucy to arrive.

The blonde astrologer had been her close friend from the Scriptor's Hall, befriending the blue haired girl when they accidentally bumped into each other at the library, ironically enough in the section that had been used the least; romance and tall tales that the Masters and other teachers had discouraged reading. But being good at sneaking into libraries had been something they were both good at, and thus a friendship blossomed.

Levy smiled as Lucy walked into the hall, waving just as the first of the night's meal was being dispersed by Mira. 'Just in time,' she thought, and giggled as Lucy plopped down next to her on the bench.

"Good lord that was a brutal map to finish," she sighed, fanning her face with her hand. "The ink can't dry fast enough before that idiot would come in and ruin it!" She nodded appreciatively at Mira, who passed her a fresh cup of klah as Lisanna slid bowls of roasted sweet meats and onions on to the table, followed by freshly baked bread. Spooning an ample amount on to the small platter in front of her, Levy grinned as Lucy tore off a piece of the bread.

"I'm guessing Natsu came by to visit?" She asked, and merely chuckled when Lucy's eyes turned dark. Apparently he had, and left more than enough evidence of his presence. Undoubtedly he was back in the astrology tower, cleaning up his mess. Levy was somewhat in awe of the blonde, though; she had been the only one aside from Erza to make him behave. Even when they were young Natsu had never been one to obey anyone, and constantly encouraged the mischief of the other youngsters.

Even when Happy, his blue dragon hatched and impressed on him, that hadn't changed his attitude. If anything, he grew more careless and chaotic, leaving a mess behind him everywhere he went. As for Levy, him being a whirlwind of energy wasn't as much of a shock as much as him becoming a dragon rider. She supposed it fit him perfectly, though she tried to squash the idle worry that would wander through her mind whenever she saw him.

What if he became like one of them?

She shook her head then, startling Lucy as she dismissed the thought. No, he couldn't be, she had known him since they were small, and she had already met the little blue Happy, who had chirped excitedly at her when Natsu had introduced her proudly to the little dragon. And if what the black rider said in the library was true, then there was nothing to worry about. Right?

The sudden appearance of Panther's rider in the hall pulled her out of her thoughts, and she stiffened next to Lucy, nearly choking on her food. She certainly hadn't expected him to show up here, though she belatedly supposed that there wasn't many other places to dine in the Weyr. But the other riders rarely showed up in the hall anymore, preferring to eat in their rooms or common areas. Even the new riders ventured to where the veterans ate, hoping to learn more from them.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice them as he trudged to the bar at the end of the hall, obviously exhausted as he pulled a stool underneath him. She breathed a slight sigh of relief, safe from his attention for the moment. However, she couldn't pull her eyes away from him as she watched him bark an order at a rather jovial Elfman, and the familiar graze of Panther's mind against hers came, apologetic and tired.

' _Forgive the late intrusion, little one,_ ' he rumbled, and Levy nearly squeaked in surprise. He rarely spoke to her during their encounters, yet he was always warm, polite and gentle, and she couldn't help but smile. Something about this pair made it difficult for her to dislike them, especially Panther. Though she was still nervous around the other riders, she was beginning to feel a bit more comfortable around the duo.

"Levy?" Lucy's voice interrupted, amused and suddenly mischievous. She pulled her eyes away, suddenly aware that Lucy had been trying to get her attention for awhile now. "You alright? I lost you for a bit," she said, then glanced towards the bar, chuckling as a rather evil glint flashed in her eyes. Levy wanted the ground to swallow her up, mortified that she had been caught staring at the rider. Lucy bumped her shoulder with her own, deciding to go easy on the embarrassed girl. "It's pretty easy to see why, though. But I thought you didn't like dragon riders?" Confusion laced through her last question, prompting Levy to shake her head.

"It's not like that, and he's not that bad either," she admitted, weaving her fingers together. Lucy cocked her head, curiosity in her eyes as she stared at the smaller girl, waiting for an explanation. When none arrived, she sighed, shaking her head as she pushed her platter away, clearly done with her meal.

"Very well, back to what I was trying to ask you about earlier," she said, and Levy turned to her, her interest piqued. "Tell me about this midsummer festival that's coming up?"

~~~*8*~~~

The sun was just behind the hills when the dragons attacked the village, bursting the bubble of calm and serenity that the villagers had known since the last pass. Not even the watch Wher could warn them in time before a iron gilded dragon crashed into its tower, destroying it as the beast savagely lunged for the Wher's throat. Screaming shrilly, the poor creature thrashed as the dragon lifted itself into the air, the rider lashing its hide with a whip.

As the dragon climbed higher, more iron clad dragons circled around the village, diving down occasionally and spewing brilliant jets of flame from their mouths. Some dove so low they smashed into the taller buildings, knocking them down effortlessly. Screaming people poured out into the streets, only to be picked up by diving dragons and dropped, falling to their deaths. Most that weren't fled into the forest, hoping for salvation in the trees from the attackers.

However, the dragons led them on, heading the survivors off in different directions till they finally reached a clearing. They dropped from the sky, surrounding the terrified villagers in all directions. The villagers huddled together, begging for mercy while the dragons sat frozen, waiting for the order. Slowly, the lead rider lifted his fist to the sky, and silence fell over the group.

They waited for what seemed like forever, dreading the drop of the armored fist while the dragons stared eagerly at them. They held each other, shielding the women and children as best they could, knowing that it was fruitless to try. Finally, the fist dropped, and the dragons lunged, their roaring filling the air as they finished the village off.

Across the forest, in the opposite direction, a small boy and girl huddled in the shelter of a tree hollow, listening as the screams echoed through the hills. Whether by some stroke of luck, they had been late in returning home when the dragons arrived, and hid when the sky began to fill with smoke.

Hours later, long after the dragons had finished their feast and lifted off and the sun began to peak over the hills again, the two emerged from their hiding spot. Shaken, they clung to each other as they ventured towards the destroyed village. At the edge, they paused, calling out for anyone to answer them. Only the crackling from the smoldering remains and the wind could be heard, and the boy tugged the girl closer to him, fighting frightened tears in as she wailed, clinging to his shirt.

"Come on," he whimpered. "We gotta get help."


	3. Chapter 3

Levy paused in the long grass, picking up her long skirts again as they threatened to trip her and cause her to rip the delicate silk. She sighed, turning back to watch the Weyr as the trickle of travelers could be seen from the other side of the lake, obviously there for the festival.

She hated and loved festival days. She loved the colors of the banners of the traders that poured in from far lands, their wagons packed with goods and ready to sell. She loved the different languages that would fill the air, and the sweet smell of the spices that traveled with them. Cinnamon, turmeric, lemon grass, even a hint of incense would tickle her senses. She loved looking at the different vendors, marveling at the different things they sold, wishing she had more than what she earned.

But then the Weyr would fill beyond capacity, creating little room to walk in the halls and holds, and chasing the little Scriptor back to the safety of the library. The noise would be muffled, but more tolerable as the party outside carried on late into the night. Or at least, until the dragon games started, and the squabble of people would be replaced with dragon roars and cheering. Taking her cue to leave the library then, she'd have no trouble in dashing through the now empty halls, racing to an even quieter place.

Today she couldn't escape the crowds as easily as she had in the past, but thankfully after an hour of entertaining Lucy and Natsu she had managed to excuse herself and slip outside for some much needed air. She breathed deep as she walked on, relishing the warms winds racing through the grass. She knew that eventually she had to return and participate in some of the grand ceremonies, and obviously Jet and Droy would want to dance with her later on, but for right now, she'd rather be alone. Large crowds were bad enough, but she hadn't expected the stares that she and Lucy received.

She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised, yet she was whenever she happened to glance into a mirror. The dress she wore complimented her figure well, perhaps a little too well. It was quite beautiful, carefully gilded with golden threads and white ribbons. A crown of baby pink flowers lay on the table, completing the look. Mira had bashfully admitted that when she had taken her measurements for a new Scriptor's tunic she couldn't resist making something pretty for festivals.

"After all, are you really going to dance in an ink stained tunic or a lovely dress that I spent weeks on to be perfect?" Mira had teased, but Levy knew better than to argue. Still, she had been more than pleased that it fit her, and she actually looked like a woman rather than a child in a pretty dress. That was till they begun to thread through the throngs of people, and suddenly Levy wished that she was still wearing her tunics. They at least hid more than the dress.

A soft rumble interrupted her thoughts, and she stumbled over a hidden knot of grass, squeaking as she suddenly found herself falling flat on her face. Startled, she pushed herself up and whipped her head around, barely holding back a squeak of alarm when she saw a dragon's head rise a little ways off, his black and sliver scales glittering against the grass.

' _Ah, little one_!'

She paused, recognizing the soft push as she watched the dragon's head swivel towards her, his eyes swirling blue. Panther?

He rumbled again, stretching lazily as his head disappeared below the grass. Levy bit her lip, staying as still as she could while watching the spot his head had been. Had she really almost bumped into him? What would happen if he decided to attack? She knew it was unreasonable, that Panther hadn't lied about not hurting her, but the spark of fear that set her heart racing couldn't quite leave her. Slowly, she rose from her spot in the grass, keeping her eyes on the same spot, jolting when she heard him huff impatiently.

' _The sun is warm, and I am lonely. Join me, little one_ ,' he rumbled, and she gulped nervously, wiping her hands on her dress. Inhaling slowly, she took a tentative step forward, watching him warily. She took another step, her curiosity winning over her fear the closer she got. Finally, she broke past the tall grass to a small clearing, and nearly gasped at the dragon as he lay stretched out. She couldn't help but stare, marveling at the slumbering beast. His scales glittered invitingly, and she clenched her fists, wondering where the urge to reach out and touch him came from.

She approached him, nearly tip toeing her way to where his head lay, biting her lip. She paused, crouching down while scrutinizing the scaly flesh. She'd only had a brief look at him when they had first met, and she had rushed away the first moment her foot had touched the platform, not even turning to thank the dragon or his rider for the ride. She gulped, feeling guilt seep into her as the times they had been kind to her flashed through her memory. They had done far more than they should have done, and more than any other rider had thought to.

Lost in her thoughts, she unwittingly reached out, bringing her fingers just a hair's breath above the dragon's eye ridge. Just as she realized what she was about to do, his eyelid slid open, revealing a swirling blue eye. She snapped her hand back, mumbling apologies under her breath.

' _Behind the ridge_ ,' he rumbled, and she could've sworn there was a certain smugness in his voice, though at the moment she was thrown for a loop.

"Behind?"

' _Yes, it itches so and my rider is unavailable._ '

"O-oh," she said, and reached out again, this time hesitating slightly before sliding her fingers over the scales to scratch the area Panther had indicated. His eye rolled back as the lid slid closed, and his throat began to vibrate, startling her. ' _I didn't know dragons could purr_ ,' she thought as she rubbed, marveling at the warm yet soft skin. She hadn't expected dragon scales to feel so smooth; their scales had given her the impression of something hard and prickly, nothing like what she was touching right now. And now that she had a closer look at him, she could see that the scales had different shades of black, adding to the glittery appearance. Feeling more courageous the more she scratched him, she let her hand wander down to his jowl, and his purring intensified. She couldn't hold back a small giggle when he rolled his head to allow her more access.

' _Your hands are softer than Gajeel's,'_ he hummed, humor replacing the smugness she had heard earlier. ' _If he knew that he'd be upset that I prefer your scratching to his._ ' She jolted at that, and hastily withdrew her hand, glancing around as Panther sighed, stretching his neck out leisurely before turning to face her. If dragons could smile, she would've sworn that Panther just did.

' _But I think he'd just be happy that you just touched me_.'

She blushed, then turned her gaze to the lake next to them, nodding awkwardly. Her fingers laced together around her knees, hugging herself. She almost couldn't believe it either; she had actually touched a dragon! And not only that, the dragon liked her scratches as well.

She couldn't hold back the pleased giggle, then clapped her hands over her mouth as a sudden thought crossed her mind, and she looked back the dragon.

"He really wouldn't be jealous, would he?" She asked. The dragon regarded her for a moment, then huffed.

' _No, little one. But I think he'd be more annoyed at me for getting you to trust me before he could,_ ' he sent.

"Really?" She asked, baffled. She could see him becoming irate with others, but with Panther?

' _Yes, but only for a bit, little one_.' He sighed, ruffling the grass with his long breath. He grunted as he shifted, startling Levy out of her crouch. ' _Then he'd return to trying to talk to you in the library in hopes of a word from you._ '

"Me? But why?" She asked, staring at the dragon. "All I've done is avoid him, the same as I've done to the other riders." She clenched her fist over her chest as regret began to rear its head again. "And even though you've been kind to me, I've been afraid to even try!" She could feel tears prickle at her eyes, and she bit her lip to stop wobbling.

' _None of which is your fault, little one_ ,' he crooned. She jumped when his breath brushed her skirt and he nudged her legs. ' _We were aware that you were afraid of us when we met, and he wanted to earn your trust by getting to know you._ ' He gave her knee another gentle nudge, humming lowly when she didn't move back. He lifted his head level to her own, his eyes swirling blue and green. ' _We still would like to, if you would have us_.'

Her eyes widened, staring at him in wonder. Were all dragons like him? Even if not, they had reached out, and persisted in their presence. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad...

With a small smile on her lips, she nodded, and reached her hand out again, softly brushing her fingers over his snout. He rumbled in happiness, pressing against her palm to encourage more pats. Suddenly he blinked, then reared his head back and turned towards the Weyr.

' _Ah, speaking of irritated..._ '

~~~*8*~~~

Gajeel sighed, rubbing his face as he leaned on the bar, exhausted from the afternoon's events. He wasn't sure how he had drawn the short straw out of the bunch, but he knew he was doomed the minute he learned of his fate for the draw. The clatter of mugs drew his attention to where the barmaid, Mirajane, was beginning her collection of ale pitchers for the night's festivities. Platters of sweet meat rolls and tubers were being prepared in the kitchen, and just the smell wafting through the hall was enough to set his stomach to growl. He couldn't quite remember the last time he had more than a bite before running off to complete some insane errand he'd been tasked with. _Well, might as well get something before I'm summoned again_ , he mused, gulping as he watched the silver haired woman pour golden ale into a pitcher.

"Oi, demon woman, lemme have your best ale," he groaned, slumping forward on the bar to bury his head in his arms. He was vaguely aware that the clattering had stopped, and that he wasn't imagining the curt footsteps that approached him. He heard her huff in front of him, and risked looking up. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her brow had lifted sardonically.

"Feeling brave tonight, Gajeel? Or did you need an excuse to stay in bed tomorrow?" She asked lightly, drumming her fingers on her arm. Gajeel paused, contemplating her. Aside from Erza, the main Weyr woman of the hold, Mirajane was among the strongest people he had encountered, let alone the scariest. But she kept it well hidden, shocking anyone who didn't know her well enough to make her mad. He sighed after a while, shaking his head.

"Nah, I need to be available for the Weyr Master," he said. "But it sure would've been nice to get out of doing Perion's bidding."

She cringed, surprising the Rider. Even she's heard of him, he mused as she reached over for a mug and pitcher. As she set them in front of him, her eyes had turned softer, even sympathetic. "I'm assuming," she began as he reached for the offered beverage, "that it went as well as expected?"

He snorted, grimacing as he thought of the disastrous moment he had learned that Perion, "Master Expert of all dragons" and blowhard was visiting the weyr that day. It got worse when Makarov simply slapped his shoulder, and told him that he would be escorting the man around for the day. Not that it would be difficult to do, per say. But Gajeel was happy to say that he wasn't the only one that found the old man more than difficult to deal with, let alone tolerate.

Master Perion was dignified up to a point, claiming that he had far more knowledge than the common street urchin. Yet, he would openly deny that he knew only as much as the Riders did, if less even. But he was tolerated for the most part, retreating to quieter places to sleep once he was done thoroughly lecturing anyone who paid him heed to his drivel. But the thing that irked Gajeel the most, and most of the other riders as well, was that Perion had a proclivity towards the Gold and Bronze riders, praising them endlessly. But, when it came to the other colored dragons, he'd merely sniff and ignored them, barely hiding a insult under his breath. When he first saw Panther, one of the few Black dragons, he outright asked if Gajeel had painted him that color just to be special, nearly earning him a swing from the Rider. He had been lucky that Erza had been nearby to hold Gajeel back, and sternly sent him away.

And it wasn't just the dragons the old man had seen fault with either. The Weyr, in his opinion, needed stricter rules and ways to uphold, and what on earth were the folk thinking, believing themselves as the same level as the Riders?

It had been the same useless bantering that he'd spewed when he left the platform today, ruffling his overly bright tunics before flouncing past an already irritated Gajeel. He had been waiting all morning since he had left Makarov's office, and the time the old man was due had long past. He barely spared Gajeel a glance, something he had been somewhat grateful for; he wouldn't have to worry about talking to him past the required greeting. He didn't know why he was there, and didn't really care, but following him around the hold had proved far more testing than he expected. He found himself murmuring far more apologies and excuses to the people Perion had shoved past, nearly knocking some over in his haste to find Makarov.

However, once they were nearly past the library, Perion had halted in his steps and whirled towards the door, muttering something about looking to see if it contained some scroll he would need later. Gajeel's heart leapt into his throat as Levy's face flashed in his mind, and he instantly called out to Panther to warn her of their entry. He wasn't sure if she was there, but he didn't want to scare her by just bolting in either, let alone have her face the ire of the old man either. Panther had been oddly quiet with his response, giving a short reassuring brush and a interesting flash of pink and blue. Before he could investigate further, Perion had cornered a librarian, grilling him over said scroll.

While he was distracted, Gajeel glanced around, wondering if he'd catch any sight of the little Scriptor. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was no sign of her, and hoped that Panther had warned her to keep away, even if that meant that he wouldn't be seeing her for the rest of the festival. A hollow feeling settled in his stomach, and he gritted his teeth as Perion's voice carried through the normally quiet library, shrill and sharp. He clenched his fists as he resisted unleashing a lecture of his own, wary of the storm that the old man could unleash on him, and he was sure that it would lead to blows. And that was something not even Makarov would condone, regardless if the Leader agreed with him or not. Fortunately, the librarian had promised that the scrolls would be available later on, leading the old man to nod satisfactorily and whirl back to the doors, on to his next mission.

They went on for a while after that, wandering into busier areas of the hold, including the hatchery. Gajeel supposed that it was just his luck that the new hatchlings were taken out to the lake, giving them space that he was envious of. Then again, jumping in front of the old man to prevent the new Riders from outright murdering him was not something he was willing to do. Thus, the absence of the Riders was another breath of relief he breathed as the old man scowled, grumbling on the state of the hatchery.

Once Makarov finally relieved him of his duties, he hadn't waited around to hear another word, let alone excuse himself, and bolted to the dining hall to escape and potentially release any pent up frustration. He was certainly primed for it, and with the hall beginning to fill up for the dinner feast, there were plenty of idiots that would join in. Especially drunk idiots, as pitchers were beginning to be passed out with mugs.

"Well, despite Perion gracing us with his presence this year," Mira said, tapping the bar next to his mug. "This is going to be your limit, yes? I don't need a brawl in here thanks to you." Her eyes took on a steely glint, promising that he'd be booted out at the first sign of trouble. He sighed, nodding in submission as he raised the pitcher again.

"Keep me filled with good food and drink and you won't hear a peep outta me," he said, wincing as the vessel was far lighter than he remembered. Had he really drank that much? He couldn't have, unless he'd been deeper in thought than usual. But then again, anyone would need a strong drink after dealing with Perion, whether or not they had the patience of a saint. And he was not a saint. Not by a long shot.

There was a commotion behind him, and a sudden jangle of bells ringing in the air. He groaned in annoyance while Mira beamed clapping her hands as Harpers trickled in, playing their instruments as they walked towards the stage. Tables and benches were shuffled aside to make way for a small dance floor, which was quickly filled with people who were already twirling to the harpers' jig. As more instruments joined in the fray, the tempo of the dance began to increase, causing many of the dancers to cheer and clap in time.

Gajeel scowled as more people piled into the hall, eager to join in the fun before the actual festival. He half wondered how the hall could fit anymore people without it bursting at the seams, and grumbled under is breath as more people brushed up against his back, shouting and calling greetings towards Mira. She waved good naturally though, always smiling despite the growing need to keep the pitchers filled. As the furniture had been moved away, the chances of eating in peace were growing slim to none, and Gajeel was becoming more inclined to hop over the bar and make his way to the kitchens, something Mira would definitely disapprove of, but might forgive him for seeing the nature of the hall currently.

Deciding that it was a risk well worth it, especially if he would have a better chance of finding food, he finished the last of his ale, smacking his lips as he set the mug down. He waited till Mira had turned her back, busy with passing out and refilling the pitchers, and pushed himself up and over the bar easily, dusting himself off before Mira could turn and protest.

He made a beeline for the door leading towards the kitchen, pretending that he couldn't hear Mira's call for him to leave the bar area as another crash of cymbals and raucous cheering filled the air. For once, he was grateful for the chaos that invaded the hall, demanding Mira's attention as more calls flew her way for ale. He escaped through the door, breathing a sigh of relief as the noise dimmed quite a bit as the it swung shut behind him. Now he could hear noises from the kitchen, and eagerly picked up the pace, nearly sprinting down the hallway. He was practically drooling by the time he reached the kitchen, the smells were so damn tempting.

As he turned into the kitchen, he froze in his stride, surprised by what he saw. The little Scriptor, Levy was busy helping the cooks set up, happily chatting away as she set out bowls. She was twirling in time to the muffled music, adding her own little voice to the song. Stunned, he couldn't pull his eyes away as he leaned on the door frame, fascinated by what he saw.

He wasn't sure if Panther had warned her if he was coming or not, but she hadn't noticed him staring at her like a fool yet. But he really couldn't help it, he was shocked by what he saw; she was grinning ear to ear, giggling at jokes the cook made. Inexplicably, heat began to rise from his chest and pool in his cheeks; he hadn't expected her to be so cute.

Actually, cute didn't do the little Scriptor justice by a long shot. Her smile was contagious, her eyes bright and sparkling with excitement. The dress she wore was unlike anything he ever expected her to wear, but it fit her just right, and he gulped with the sudden realization that while she was small, she definitely was _not_ a child. He could never tell before, always having to talk to her from around the corners in the library. Even then, she was always wearing that dratted tunic that hid everything from sight, including curves. It clicked in his mind that it was same color of pink that Panther had flashed to him earlier, but there was no way that she possibly could have, right? He wanted to ask Panther if indeed they had met up, but the dragon was still sleeping, as far as he could tell. ' _Ah well, I'll figure it out later_ ,' he thought, sighing when his stomach finally pushed him to focus on getting fed.

His movement had startled her, and she squeaked in alarm and ducked behind an empty bowl. Apparently Panther hadn't warned her, the poor girl. He chuckled amiably, raising his hands up to show he meant no harm.

"Sorry, shorty, didn't mean to scare ya," he said, grinning when she peeked over the lip of the bowl, blinking as he turned to snag a roll off of a large platter. The cook nodded at him, returning to his own work as Gajeel snagged another one, offering it to Levy. "I see you came in here for refuge as well, eh?" He asked, stuffing half of the first roll into his mouth, nearly groaning as the buttery pastry melted on his tongue and meaty juice dribbled over his chin. He nearly choked as he tried wiping it up, blushing madly. _So much for being suave,_ he moaned internally.

A soft giggle yanked his head back towards her, juice dripping down his chin forgotten as he stared at her, amazed at what he saw. She had dropped the bowl a little, a shy smile on her face as a blush graced her cheeks. She reached out, taking the roll from him and nodded bashfully. "Thank you," she murmured, and his heart stuttered. Her voice was the sweetest thing he had heard ever, aside from Panther's baby cries. He grinned at her, almost at a loss for words as he dumbly nodded, unsure as to how to continue. Thankfully, the cook rescued him by throwing a rag at him, rebuking him of wearing his food rather than eating it as it was meant to be.

But his heart still hadn't recovered, beating erratically whenever she looked at him, almost knocking him off of his feet when she smiled at him. Now, he was determined to keep it that way, no matter what, though hopefully it wasn't due to him making a fool of himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Makarov loved a good party; there was usually lots of merriment, singing and dancing and good food with the best wine available. He loved watching his Weyr having a good time, despite the hard times they would experience sometimes. Especially now, with the Rogue riders plaguing the villages and haunting those whom escaped them. He could see it in his own people, the quick looks of pity to the survivors and flashes of fear that the rumors brought. He desperately wanted to wipe that fear away, and see them smile in peace. But to say that it was a problem he could solve easily was foolish, almost imbecilic.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat that presided over the main dance court, flagon in hand and a platter nearby. He waved as another wave of dancers cheered, swinging around in time to the music. Next to him, his grandson was laughing at some joke his Scriptor was making. On the Weyr leader's other side, Mavis the First sat, sipping her wine as she watched the others in amusement.

He smiled sardonically as he lifted his own wine to his lips, berating himself that he ought to have a little bit of fun while the moment lasted. There had been too much tragedy as of late, causing stress and tension for many of the hold and Weyr leaders, including himself. Not even the Dragon Expert Perion had offered any insight into why the rogue riders had started attacking again. Then again, that really wasn't too much of a surprise, but he couldn't fault the man either; the riders were too slippery to catch in the act and completely disappeared.

There had to be a way to track them, he mused, his brow slipping into frown as he considered his wine. Somewhere on this world they had to rest, no matter what. If we could just find them...

"Master? Something wrong with the wine?" Mirajane's voice cut into his thoughts, half amused and half concerned. He looked up and smiled reassuringly at her, waving his hand distractedly.

"The wine is absolutely divine, Mira my dear," he said. "In fact, so divine that I should dare ask for another pitcher?" He asked, clasping his hands over the flagon as though he was begging. Mira only laughed, shaking her head in mock exasperation over his antics, but promised him that his pitcher would be on the way shortly. As she made her way back to the bar, he sighed as he leaned back in his chair, nearly jumping when there was a soft tug on his sleeve.

Mavis was regarding him with a small smile, though there was a bit of sadness in her eyes. "It wasn't the wine, was it?" She asked. He sighed, then smiled reassuringly at her as he covered her hand with his other.

"No, my dear, it wasn't. My mind is too easily occupied on matters that have no business being there on festival days," he said, looking back at the dancers and patting her hand. She chuckled lightly, leaning back in her own chair.

"So I heard that a certain dragon expert made himself a nuisance today," she said, grinning when he groaned loudly and slouched in his chair. Indeed, he had avoided the man almost effortlessly today thanks to Gajeel's "job", though he did regret saddling the young man with such a hated person, especially one who hated him just as much. However, he couldn't avoid him the whole day, and couldn't blame Gajeel when he sped off, not sparing him so much as a sympathetic look. Thus, Perion had him all to himself the rest of the afternoon and into the night.

"Did he have anything new to say?" Mavis asked. Makarov sighed, shaking his head.

"Nothing other than his usual rhetoric of nonsense," he said, flashing a grateful grin as Mira returned, pitcher in hand. He offered to pour more wine for the First, refilling his own cup when she declined. "But he did mention something about a discovery of ruins not too far from Cedar Village."

She frowned as she stared at her empty wine glass. "It could be worth looking into, Makarov," she said. "At this point, where else haven't we looked?"

He nodded, conceding to her point. They had to start somewhere, at least. And despite Perion's foolishness, any inkling of a lead had to be worth looking at. He just hoped that it led somewhere, and wasn't another goose chase that ended nowhere.

He was turning to the first again when a commotion from the other end of the courtyard caught his eye. A harper had burst in, waving his arms wildly over his head as he raced towards the pavilion where they sat. He ran along the sides of the dance floor and skidded to a stop in front of them, panting hard as he leaned over, hands braced on his knees. Makarov jumped down, motioning for Mira to bring a cup of wine for the man.

"Calm down, son," he said soothingly, patting the man's shoulder. "Just take your time and gather your wits." The Harper only shook his head frantically, straightening himself as best as he could.

"I have urgent news for you, Master," he panted, and Makarov could feel his blood running cold from the panic in his voice. "It's the rogue riders, sir. They've attacked Tenro!"

~~~*8*~~~

It seemed like he had just collapsed into his bedroll, past exhausted from the festival and the day before. He was barely able to stay awake on the way to his room, trudging slowly as he navigated by feel most of the way. He didn't bother with the glows, or his boots, merely shrugging out of his hide jacket and gear and letting them flop heavily on the floor.

It was his fault for staying up so late, yet he couldn't regret it, and refused to admit that he loathed to leave at all. It was only when his eyes closed for the final time and his head dipped at the table did he discover how tired he truly was, and a soft touch woke him, causing him to jolt.

She had laughed gently, bags under her eyes betraying her own weariness. The candles that brightly lit the kitchen earlier were now dim, nearly burned out. The cook had retired long ago, yawning as he bid them a good evening and left the two to talk.

And talk they did. They chatted softly as the music from the hall waned and finally died, indicating that most of the Weyr finally found their own beds. And though Levy had initially sat at the far end of the table, bit by bit she had scooted closer to him, her intrigue overcoming whatever wariness was left. She asked him many questions, her eyes glittering in the firelight as he told tales of his and Panther's adventures in exploring lands she'd only heard of. She in turn fascinated him with stories she had found in the Library, both in their Weyr and from academy, some he'd never heard of before. He couldn't help but laugh at her past antics when she explained how she managed to find said stories, painting a picture of her that he'd never expected.

His muscles had stiffened from how long he sat at the table, cramping as he stood to stretch. He was sure that the sun was only an hour away from rising, making him dread the lack of sleep he was sure to have later on. Out of courtesy he offered to escort her to her wing, feeling a tiny sting of disappointment when she gently declined. But her tired grin made up for it, and he felt a surge of hope when she waved at him, tossing a "see you later" over her shoulder.

So it was with a cheerful grin that his head landed in his pillow, delighted with the promise of getting to know the little Scriptor even better than before. Hell, even Panther stood a good chance of being in her good graces at this rate! He'd been beyond pleased when the dragon finally revealed their meeting, confident that the girl trusted him enough to meet him again. And that, Gajeel thought dreamily, was a far better victory than any dragon games could offer.

That cheer ended soon with a loud bang at his window, and snuffling sound that was far more insistent than it had any right to be. He could hear the hinges creaking as the shutters swung open, letting in more than just the light.

'Oi, get up, there's something going on,' came Panther's gentle brush on his weary mind. He groaned, pulling the pillow over his head in an attempt to ignore the snout that prodded his back. A loud huff wafted over his back, irritated that the tired rider wasn't abiding immediately. 'A meeting for all riders and masters has been called, you must attend.' Panther's voice was growing more annoyed by the minute, and he prodded Gajeel's back again.

He only grunted, then sent a scene from the night before to the dragon, requesting another minute of rest. Panther only huffed, and Gajeel could almost hear the great beast roll his eyes in exasperation. 'Well, it certainly wasn't my idea for you to flirt with her all night long,' the dragon retorted, ignoring the sudden jump that Gajeel's heart did in his chest.

'Now, get up or I will flip you out of bed.'

When Gajeel only grunted, unmoving from his cot, Panther simply slid his head under one side of the cot, and jerked it up. The bed, and Gajeel still in it, flipped across the room and scattered bed sheets and the now cursing rider. He stumbled to his feet, flipping his warm pillow at the dragon who promptly snapped at it, tearing the case and sending feathers whirling around the room. Dumbfounded by the sudden feathery storm, Gajeel turned and growled at him, swatting at feathers that threatened to choke him.

'There, you have no more reason to sleep, now get going,' the dragon sent, huffing at the panting man, sending the feathers flying again. Gajeel bristled, opening his mouth to rage at the dragon more when there was a pounding his door.

"Redfox! Get your ass up, all riders are called urgently!"

Gajeel froze as he recognized Headwoman Erza's voice shouting from the other side, horror sending a shiver down his spine as he looked at the mess that was now his room. He wasn't necessarily afraid of her, but there were moments where he'd rather be as far from her wrath as possible. She was stricter than Mira on hold matters and proceedings, and didn't hesitate to punish those who stepped out of line. It was said that the majority of the rowdier riders and youngsters behaved due to her, something he could attest to. He still had bruises from her last "lecture", and wasn't keen to repeat it this early.

There was no way he could hide the damaged pillow, or the ruined bed that lay in pieces in the corner. Undoubtedly there would be some sort of punishment, he'd just have to bide his time, and hope that she'd have a bit of leniency towards him.

Unfortunately, time was not on his side as the door slammed open, revealing the Headwoman in all her fiery wrath. He cringed as she paused, taking in the feathery mess before turning to him. She huffed impatiently as Panther rumbled apologetically to her, leaving Gajeel to gulp nervously.

"Redfox," she growled, her eyes turning from a steely edge to a dull grey, giving way to the bruised smudges under her eyes, matching his own. She sighed, jerking her chin over her shoulder. "I'll ignore it today, so get to the meeting."

He nearly gaped at her, hesitation as she backed out of the room, giving him space to slip by. With a final glance back at the dragon, he nodded as he took his leave, noting that her eyes were red and puffy as well, something that shocked him. He'd never seen the normally proud Headwoman looking so defeated, let alone vulnerable enough to cry. Nothing could bring her down like that, unless...

He gulped, a cold sweat starting to break out on his brow as he headed towards the council, concern speeding his footsteps. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

~~~*8*~~~~

The council room was abuzz when he entered it, filled with mostly riders and masters of different guilds and halls. Still unsettled by the lack of Erza's reaction to the pillow, he found his way to an unclaimed chair, pondering what could've happened. As he leaned back in his chair, he glanced around, curious to see if anyone knew what was going on.

The biggest thing he noticed right away was that Makarov was nowhere to be seen, leaving many to wander around freely and gossip. Some of the riders had worried looks on their faces, and he wondered if they had been privy to some knowledge he wasn't allowed to know yet. He glowered as he recognized Perion's disagreeable face leering at a young Queen rider, no doubt ignoring the Blue Rider next to her. He rolled his eyes, holding back a snort of laughter when the young woman turned to the other rider, grinning up at him as Perion's smile turned to a frown. Maybe next time, ye ol' lecher, he thought.

He turned his attention elsewhere, trying to catch little tidbits of the quiet conversations that scattered throughout the large room. His own brow pulled together as snippets of "attack" and "smoke" filtered through the air, adding to the unease that settled in his gut. Don't tell me they've struck again, he fretted, beginning to bite at his lip anxiously.

Despite countless attacks in the past, it was a rare thing for the Weyr Leader to call a meeting for attacks anymore, due to the lack of information. But with each council that was called, the news was grimmer than the last.

It had to be bad, what with the Headwoman's behavior this morning, and the absence of the Weyr Leader, he mused darkly. Not even the First Headwoman or Laxus were present, something that in the short time he had been at this Weyr had never seen, especially for a meeting of this type. Figuring that they were going to be late, he leaned back in his chair, feeling his eyes beginning to droop in exhaustion.

The doors burst open, startling him awake and nearly out of his seat, silencing all others mid-sentence. All heads turned to watch Makarov enter, his face dark with a fury that he'd never seen before. Fully awake, he stumbled to stand to attention as others scrambled to find their seats, clearing a path for the Weyr lord as he strode to the head seat at the table.

Gajeel gulped nervously as Makarov barely acknowledged the crowd, bidding them to sit with a quick flick of his wrist. Only the rustle of cloth and scrapping wood could be heard as all waited anxiously for Makarov, remaining eerily silent as he scooted his own chair closer to the table. He waited for a moment, his face pinched in concentration as though carefully considering his words, then sighed heavily before looking up and around.

"As some of you know," he began, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the table. "The rogue riders have struck again. What I didn't tell you was," he paused, grimacing, "was that Tenro was the target."

A collective gasp of horror rose from the others, followed by a murmur of dismay. Gajeel, though horrified that another village had fallen victim, was slower to understand the implications of Makarov's words. He sent a quick glance around, catching glimpses of hands flying towards gaping mouths and tears at the corners of eye of more sensitive people. His jaw clenched as he turned to face the Leader, his heart beginning to race as Makarov waited for the others to settle down, allowing them a moment of grief.

"So," he continued, capturing their undivided attention. "While we will mourn for Tenro, it is past time the rogues were allowed to do as they wish." He glowered, sending shivers down Gajeel's back. While the leader had sent some dark glares towards his way in the past, it had never rendered him unable to move, let alone think past finding a hiding spot.

Makarov looked around the table, his expression softening as he took in the frightened faces of all those who attended. "All who sit here are those whom I trust the most, who are the best at what they offer, and what they do. I consider you all a part of this Weyr, regardless of your history or present status." He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Thus, I cannot allow us to wander blindly in how little we know about them," he said, his gaze darkening again. He fixed it on Perion, who straightened in his seat subconsciously at the Leader's attention.

"You have boasted in how much you know about the dragons," Makarov began, causing the older man's apple to bobble nervously. "I want any information that you know possible, and if there's an inkling that you can find more, you must follow it and report it to me."

Gajeel fought the urge to snort disparagingly, biting his tongue in order not to voice his personal thoughts. Of course, Perion was the master of vague answers and arrogant airs,

anyone would be a better choice for this particular cause than the old windbag. But, this was not his time to speak out, and he figured that time would ultimately prove that Perion was not to be trusted. However, that might mean lives if he was wrong, and a sick feeling settled in his gut. He couldn't afford to be asinine in his search, even if he did find something that would help them.

"Of course, you're more than welcome to choose an assistant should you need the help," Makarov was saying, and Gajeel afforded himself a slight sigh in relief. At least the Leader was aware of the shenanigans that Perion was guilty of, thus a "babysitter" of sorts would even out their odds of finding the rogues faster and more effectively.

Perion was practically preening now, sending another wave of disgust down the rider's spine. He nodded his head, barely hiding smugness in his voice as he spoke up. "I will do my best, but I require the help of a Rider and your best Scriptor."

'Of course he would,' Gajeel thought dryly, watching as other riders shot dirty looks at the older man. Everyone knew of Perion's preferences, and there was hardly a soul who wasn't aware of his temperament if he didn't get what he wanted. There'd be no volunteers for this mission, let alone patience for any unlucky enough to get sacked with him.

"I cannot spare Laxus, and you have an ample selection of Scriptors to choose from," Makarov said reasonably, already aware of what the old man was implying. Gajeel frowned slightly, not liking the sudden hunch he had one bit. If he had an open choice, then...

"If I may, Weyr Leader?" The Scriptor master piped up, leaning forward to be seen. At Makarov's prompt to continue, he cleared his throat, turning his attention to Perion. "While it's true that you have a selection of the best our hall has to offer, might I recommend Levy? Though she's still apprenticed, she's certainly better than some of us combined. She's graduated top honors from the Scriptor's hall, with recom-"

"No."

All heads turned towards Gajeel, who was himself surprised that the word leapt from his lips. The glare that Perion shot his way could've boiled leather; he was clearly displeased. But it wasn't something he could've prevented. He couldn't quite figure why he had spoken out, but the mere thought of Perion choosing her soured him, and that the masters were actually recommended her for this job stirred a rage in him that was hard to conceal. Gajeel clenched his jaw, turning his attention to the Leader instead, ignoring the curious stares from the others. Makarov regarded him, waiting for him to explain.

Gajeel huffed, his mind racing to collect his thoughts. "Forgive me, Leader," he said. "But if a Rider is chosen, you know that she will refuse." While it wasn't the actual reason he had spoken up, it wasn't far from the truth either. Makarov had to be more than aware of this; why hadn't he spoken up instead? The notion would've been immediately swatted down, leaving him free of the uncomfortable feeling of growing humiliation. Had he been right to speak for her?

Makarov nodded slowly, frowning slightly, yet easing the tension from his stiff shoulders. "I do, my boy, I do," he said, sighing wearily. Gajeel leaned back, gulping back a sigh of his own. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Perion fuming, almost sputtering in silent protest.

"While that may be true that she would refuse the rest of us," one rider spoke up. "Can that be said for you?" The rider fixed Gajeel with a pointed stare, raising his eyebrow sardonically as murmurs of agreement rose from the others. "After all, we all know that you've been spending long hours in the library, trying to talk to the girl."

Gajeel stared at the rider, stunned into silence as his cheeks began to flush. He hadn't considered the possibility that he might be roped into this, seeing as Perion hated him and Panther (and the feeling, quite frankly, was mutual). But if Levy was going to be chosen to go and given the opportunity to choose the rider, then he'd be damned if he stayed behind. Even if Perion was in charge of the blasted operation, she at least wouldn't be alone with the old lecher.

"So, Gajeel," mused Makarov, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Would you be willing to be their rider if she said yes to you?" He raised a bushy brow bemusedly, and Gajeel internally cursed himself before nodding.

"I object!" Perion cried out, standing so quickly that his chair scrapped loudly. He slammed his palms down of the table, red in the face. " I refuse to allow that... that... a'reus and that black freak of nature," he sneered, pulling his lips in a snarl, "any right to come with us!"

It took everything in Gajeel's power not to vault over the table and swing a fist into Perion's face, regardless of him being a guest. He didn't care if Perion thought he was worthless, he had been called worse by far more terrifying people. But the moment he was going to drag Panther into his spats the deal was off. Perion would be lucky to still have his life left if Gajeel had his way.

Luckily, Gajeel wasn't alone, and other riders didn't hesitate to stand in protest, shouting out against the older man. Perion retreated, shocked that others would disagree with his discontent.

"That is enough!" Makarov's voice thundered, silencing them all again. He barely hid the disgust in his voice as he scowled at Perion. "The decision will be left to Levy, and whatever it is, I hope that you will abide by it." He said, turning his gaze from Perion to Gajeel, who was still seething over the insult. By rider's right he would've called Perion out on it, but alas, Perion was not a fighter, and free to do as he wished. His nails bit into his palms as he gripped his fists tightly, staring at the old man as he casually flicked some speck of dust away.

"Am I clear?" Makarov asked, his voice deathly quiet and heavy, promising a punishment worse than violence if he were to ignore his command. Gajeel nodded slowly, his eyes never straying from Perion's position, even though the older man was now ignoring him.

In charge, eh? He thought angrily. Fine, but the minute he's out of line is the moment I'm taking Levy back home.

Makarov sighed, leaning back now that he had their cooperation. "Now, before we continue, will someone be so kind as to summon the poor girl and send her to my office?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you sure about this?"

Levy looked up from her desk, pausing in her mad dash around the hall to face a rather concerned Jet. He was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded her, nodding at the journal she had just grabbed and was about to stuff into her bag. Behind him, Droy was panting heavily, having raced not too far behind them. They had followed her when she ran out of the Leader's office, curious as to why the little Scriptor was in such a rush. She only managed to babble out a few words before focusing on not tripping up the long flight of steps to the Scriptor's Hall. Once she had reached it, she had flown around the room, snatching items off of shelves.

Jet sighed, shaking his head as Droy plopped into a chair nearby. He'd only managed to catch a little bit of her story, but the thing that struck out to him the most that a dragon rider was involved. And Levy looked more determined than frightened, something that he'd never seen before.

"Say it slower, Levy. What exactly is going on?" He asked, pointing at the bench. "And what's this about a Rider?"

She sighed, but returned to her task of gathering items, reaching for a small parcel of charcoal sticks. She had honestly never expected that Makarov would call for her, at least so early. Despite being exhausted, she was excited, bouncing happily in the chair while waiting for the Leader to wrap up his meeting.

She was surprised when he entered the room, followed by a rather angry older man, and an equally upset looking Gajeel. But one glance at her and something sparked in his eyes, causing her heart to sputter. She hoped that her cheeks weren't as bright as they felt as the three men sat themselves. It was difficult to keep her eyes from straying to the Rider though, and she finally forced herself to turn away from him to focus on the Leader.

She had been alarmed when she took in the lines of weariness on his face, resisting the urge to reach out and hug the Leader. When he finally opened his mouth, she could only gasp in horror. Tenro, gone? And worse still; her nightmares were no longer a thing of the past. She could feel her palms grow clammy as Makarov went on, clenching her jaw nervously. He was saying something about a plan to find the Rogue riders, that she had been chosen, but she was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate. They're back? No! It can't be! Her mind screamed, dragging up unwanted memories that she'd so meticulously buried.

A warmth covered her clenched fist, drawing her back to the conversation. A gentle brush against her thoughts soothed her, making her relax against the chair. She hadn't realized that Makarov had gone silent, staring at her in concern. His eyes flickered to her side, and she turned to find Gajeel kneeling next to her, his hand on hers. He was frowning, his brow pushed together as his eyes flitted over her face.

"You alright, shorty?" He asked, his voice low with worry.

She gulped, then flashed a short smile at him, nodding as she turned back to Makarov. On the other side, the old man simply huffed, rolling his eyes and muttering about dramatics. Levy wasn't exactly sure why he was here still, but she tried to ignore the little stab of embarrassment in her gut. "I'm fine," she said, "Please, continue?"

After a moment, he nodded, reassured that she was indeed okay. As the details of leaving for the mission were pointed out, Gajeel stood and returned to his own seat, glancing at her occasionally. Her fingers twitched at the lack of warmth now, and she wanted to revel at his touch longer, nearly blushing again as she snapped back to the leader. She hoped that he didn't notice her lack of attention, she was already mortified over her reaction to the news.

"Gajeel has volunteered to be you Rider in this mission, should you want to go," Makarov was saying. "In fact, he was rather adamant that you wouldn't choose any other Rider."

Levy's eyes widened, and there was no hiding the blush now. She glanced at the rider, who was pointedly looking the other way, but she couldn't help but wonder if the light was playing tricks with her or if there was indeed a tint of pink on his own cheeks.

"I don't see why it's-" the other man piped up, only to be cut off by Makarov's hiss. He kept his gaze on her, making her squirm uneasily as she bit her lip. The mission was tempting, centering on something she'd only dream of doing, but the thought of the rogue riders sobered that almost instantly. Then again, she'd conquered quite a bit with her conversation with the black rider the previous night. More than she'd ever thought possible too. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad, and Gajeel did have a point; she wouldn't go with another rider. But... what if...

She inhaled slowly and looked at Gajeel. "Can you fight?" She asked, gulping back the nervous quaver in her voice. He met her eyes solidly, nodding sternly. It wasn't an easy thing she was asking, but the assurance he gave was relieving. Nodding in return, she turned to the leader, and with as much bravery as she could muster she nodded. "I'll go," she said, flashing a smile at the rider, "with Gajeel as our rider."

Makarov grinned, leaning back and clapping his palms against the desk. "Then it's settled," he claimed. "You'll be off in the next hour, so hurry and pack whatever you might need for this mission." He waved his hands at her, adding that she was to be at the landing area within the time limit and no later.

Levy nodded, jumping up from her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the old man was scowling at her, clearly put out by her decision. She wasn't entirely sure why, but that didn't matter when she turned to leave, just barely catching the triumphant smirk on Gajeel's face, making her feel tingly and warm. She nearly tripped trying to leave the office, stumbling over her own feet as she rushed to prepare.

"But why Gajeel, of all people?" Jet asked as she finished her story, Droy chiming in behind him. She paused for a second, thinking of how to respond. She knew she had to get going soon, but how could she tell them that he'd done something few others could? In all the time she'd known him, he'd never given her a reason to fear him, or Panther for that matter. If they had objections then it would have to wait, time was running out. She nibbled her lip before slinging the satchel over her shoulders, nodding as she came to her answer.

"Because," she said, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I trust him." And with that, she bounded out of the hall, on her way to the landing yard where her companions were waiting.

Jet gawked at her retreating figure, unable to quite comprehend what she just said. "Uhh... you heard that too, right?" Droy asked, the confusion in his voice mirroring Jet's own. They'd heard the rumors from others, but had always waved it off as bored people seeing things that weren't there. And Levy never really spoke about him whenever they hung out, mostly cause they never thought to ask. But to actually see it front of them, and to hear her words, well, it was a bit of a shock.

"Do you think she knows about him?"

Jet shook his head slowly, a grimace settling over his face. Droy sighed, pushing himself up to start the long trek down the stairs. "Well," he started, waving his hand in front of his face. "I hope that when she does, it's from us."

Jet could only nod in agreement, fervently hoping that the girl's trust in the Black Rider wasn't misplaced.

~~~*8*~~~

Much to her surprise, only Panther was visible in the landing yard when she skidded to a halt. She waited till her heart slowed, composing herself daintily before entering the area. She grinned and waved at the dragon, who in turn bowed his head at her.

' _You're early, Little One_ ,' he sent to her, amusement in his voice. She blushed, shrugging her shoulders as she approached the dragon. He stretched out his head for her to scratch, which she happily obliged. ' _Eager, are we?'_ He hummed, pushing against her hand. ' _Gajeel shall join us shortly, then we'll be off_.'

She blinked, then smiled warmly. "Aren't we forgetting someone? It's just you and I at the moment," she teased. Panther huffed, rumbling disagreeably as his eyes began swirling from blue to red slowly, and pulled his head away. Confused, the girl gulped nervously as she looked around, backing away slightly. "Unless... that's a bad thing?"

' _Well, you know we're traveling with Perion, yes?_ '

"Oh!" Her eyes opened with comprehension, and she clapped her hands. "The Dragon Master?"

"That's what he calls himself."

Levy jumped, squeaking as she whirled to find Gajeel walking into the area, shrugging into a heavy riding jacket. In his hands he held a smaller jacket, obviously it was meant for her. As he reached them, he held it out gruffly, waiting for her to take it, and turned to start packing smaller packets into the saddle bags.

' _We're not exactly on good terms with Perion_ ,' Panther rumbled as she pulled on the jacket. She glanced at Gajeel, then back to Panther, stepping closer to the dragon. He must've sensed her curiosity, and puffed amusedly. ' _Perion has a... very peculiar predilection towards dragons, and we're not on the list of dragons he approves of. As for Gajeel,_ ' he turned to the rider, and Levy followed his gaze while he went on his business, oblivious to the conversation taking place. ' _Well, he doesn't think too highly of him, either_.'

There was a hint of disapproval in his voice, and Levy gripped her fingers together, suddenly anxious. She now had an inkling as to why the old man had glared at her earlier, and couldn't help but agree with Panther's earlier statement. Maybe it would be better to go without the old man? She wasn't sure, but if he was the reason that they were going in the first place, then it would be rude to leave without him, regardless of his feelings towards the rider. As for her, well, it wasn't hard to figure out at all.

He finally turned back to her, catching her off guard. She whirled back to the dragon's head, reaching out to pet the muzzle as her cheeks burned. It wouldn't do to have him catch her staring at him, would it? Especially if his eyes were going to make her heart jump the way it did earlier, even though it was already racing. Not even running her hands over Panther's smooth scales could help soothe her, she was so nervous.

She nearly jumped again when his hand touched her shoulder, light and gentle. "Ya nervous about riding with me?" He asked, concerned. She blinked, then shook her head before glancing up at him over her shoulder. The worried look in his eyes didn't leave as he sighed, then gripped her shoulder. "Then," he said, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "You oughta stay near me. I'll keep ya safe, I swear it."

Levy was glad in that instant that the rider couldn't hear her heart stutter, racing faster than it ever had before. She whipped her head back to an amused Panther, doing her best to hide the blush that exploded from her neck to her hairline. She nodded her head in response, only able to make squeaking noises as she drowned in embarrassment.

A chatter of harsh noises sounded from the hall, followed by stomping boots, ending the quiet moment. Gajeel sighed, pulling away from her with one last quick squeeze before reaching to adjust a strap on Panther's saddle. Perion stormed in not a minute later, lacking his usually bright brocades. Instead, he huffed as he readjusted the over-sized riding jacket, yanking the belt tighter around himself.

"I hope that beast's got a good sense of direction," the old man growled. Levy nearly gasped, shocked at the sudden rudeness. She glanced at Panther, then at Gajeel. Panther's eyes had begun to swirl red again, and Gajeel's shoulders tensed, then released. He turned to Perion, indifference painted on his face, though she could see his eyes flashing just as quickly as Panther's had.

"Panther's got the best sense of navigation a dragon could ask for," he said, his voice barely holding an edge. To his credit, Panther merely huffed, rumbling as he heaved onto his feet, rustling his wings in preparation to lift off.

"Hmph," Perion sniffed, not bothering to hide the scowl now. "All the same, I better ride front; you never know what the sub-par dragons might try when you don't watch them."

 _Sub-par_?! Levy bit her tongue before she could let the incredulous cry loose. Why, the old man had no idea what he was talking about! And now, she clearly understood the animosity the rider and dragon felt for him. If only he wasn't the dragon master, she'd tell him a thing or two about sub-par!

Gajeel stepped up to the old man as he was approaching Panther, stopping him mid-stride. "I'd be careful about what you say, Perion," he growled. "I'll let you ride front, but I hope you don't mind any shenanigans Panther could be capable of." The look on the rider's face was dark, and Levy could feel herself gulping nervously. Jet's warning echoed in her mind, and she couldn't help wondering if she would see anything like the old Gajeel on their trip, despite the warmth he'd shown her way earlier.

Perion scoffed. "Make sure you control him then, you're only here due to a mistake." His eyes flicked over to her then, and she resisted the urge to shy away. "You, girl, will ride behind me."

Something in her gut suddenly shouted denial, but she couldn't find her voice to speak her misgivings. Fortunately, Gajeel saved her from it, tsking and folding his arms over his chest.

"Can't. Rider's gotta be close to the front to drive his dragon, and since you want me in control, wouldn't do for you to suddenly find yourself falling off just before between, would it?" He asked, his voice cool. Perion glared at him before whipping back to the dragon, huffing indignantly as he began to climb the strap ladder. Levy breathed a sigh of relief, nearly jolting when Panther's mind pressed against hers reassuringly.

' _The old fool is wrong, Little One. You didn't choose lightly, and we are honored by your choice_ ,' he sent, and she nearly giggled, relief surging through her. It was rather ironic, that Panther was trying to calm her when they had every right to be just as upset. She wondered why Gajeel hadn't been angrier with Perion when he had suffered worse, and Panther too!

She'd have to ask later, for Gajeel was turning to her to offer her a boost up. She nodded as she braced, reaching out to catch a riding handle as she was nearly tossed into the air. As she settling herself into her spot, she watched as Gajeel hauled himself up the side of the dragon with practiced ease, sliding between them and strapping himself in. After a moment of ensuring both of his passengers were safely latched on, he nodded.

Panther lurched forward, startling her into wrapping her arms around Gajeel's middle. Her surprised squeak was muffled by his back, but he must've heard it; he was patting her hands gently before leaning forward as Panther ambled to the launching platform.

"Finally we get going," Perion's voice sounded from in front of her, and a twinge of bitterness roiled in her gut. They really should have left without him, she fumed.

~~~*8*~~~

Despite the growing heat of the morning, Mavis wrapped her arms around herself, cold as she watched the black dragon and his passengers lift into the air, growing smaller as they traveled further away till they blipped out of existence and into Between. Unaware that she'd been holding her breath, she released it in a quiet sob, gulping as tears she'd been too ashamed of showing to the others poured down her cheeks.

She'd been unable to attend the meeting, too overwhelmed by grief to assist whatever planning Makarov had in mind. From what she heard, however, was that she hadn't been the only one mourning the town. She wouldn't let herself mourn to too much longer, she mused, turning to watch a flock of birds detachedly.

She'd resume her duties as Head Weyrwoman, and consult with the other riders as to what the outcome of the meeting entailed. After all, she was still a rider, even if she was dragonless.

Her chest throbbed, the thought pulling at the old wound like a deep thorn. She inhaled slowly, willing the black void that threatened to swallow her back again. It had been difficult to deal with the loss, and that of Zeref as well. She clenched her fist over her chest, fighting the sobs that threatened to escape.

She had known so many people in that town, so many faces and voices that had been a part of her soul when she was healing from Virki's death. She'd never hear, or see them ever again.

She huffed out a wavering breath, turning from the window to leave the room. After all, they had the Weyr to protect, and soulless men to stop.


	6. Chapter 6

Thunder greeted the group as they popped back into existence. Gajeel swore, nearly startled out of his skin. The sky ahead was thick with clouds, promising a decent storm. 'Tch, as if that's what we need right now,' he groused. The winds were whipping up the thick green fields outside of the little town, and the weyr-watch bellowed a warning along with its greeting.

'How far till we reach Clover Town?' He sent, leaning slightly over to check the terrain below. It was slightly more difficult to do so when sandwiched between two people, and having the old man in front of him push against him was not helping. Behind him, he could feel the tiny arms of the Scriptor tighten around him, desperately trying to hang on with every tiny bit of strength she had. He felt a smile pull at his lips when she nuzzled closer, grateful that no one else could see as his heart jumped. Panther might've sensed it, in fact, he was sure that his dragon was more than aware of the affect she had on him; as to why he hadn't commented on it yet he wasn't sure.

'Probably to torture me more later on,' he thought, stifling a sigh of annoyance.

'Another minute, then we'll touch down,' Panther's reply came, distracting him from his thoughts. He leaned forward as best he could, grunting in acknowledgement and was about to shout their status when a bolt of lightning struck nearby, startling all of them. Perion's head snapped back, cracking Gajeel on the lip and stunning him slightly. Panther roared, just as stunned and banked to retreat from the surprise. Levy screamed, causing his heart to nearly stop in horror at the sound. Her grip on him tightened, and he clasped her tiny hands in his larger gloved ones as they descended to the earth. The winds around them were gusting faster and harder now, and he could see a wall of water heading their way. If they were still in the air when it hit...

'Get us down as fast as you can, fucking crash if you have to!' He sent, leaning into the wind as Perion sputtered. The old man held on to his grips, thankfully. Gajeel shook his head, his lip still stinging from the sudden motion. He hoped that it was merely bruised; talking around a busted lip was more difficult with a healing piercing or two.

Panther finally was low enough to avoid most of the streams of wind, skimming over the grassland till he was as close to the landing field as he could get without landing and forcing the riders to run for cover. Another bolt struck behind them, followed by a colossal crash and burnt ozone. Levy jumped, another scream caught in her throat when a side wind jostled them, nearly tipping them over. She sucked in her breath, holding it desperately as Panther growled underneath her, fighting to stay upright.

Finally, the field was in sight, and the dragon practically dove for it, nearly sliding on the grass as he touched down. He dug his claws into the dirt, growling as the wind nearly twisted his wings around and whipped his body into the headwind, bowing his head against its strength. Once the gust lessened, he turned and loped across the field to the platform, jumping at times in his rush to beat the wind before it would pin him to the ground again.

As they reached the platform, the wind shifted, then died, allowing Gajeel to breath a quick sigh of relief. Storms were very dangerous for dragons; the ever-changing winds would flip a dragon if he wasn't wary enough. He mentally cursed the timing of their re-entry, then cursed the reason why they needed to get to their destination in such a hurry. He glanced behind them, nearly swearing when he saw the wall of water closer than he'd expected.

It was on them before Gajeel had the time to scrabble at the lashes, releasing the old man first before he half turned to the Scriptor's tether. In thanks for his effort, he took an elbow to the chest as Perion scurried off of Panther, swearing loudly as the deluge poured around them. The rider sighed, finally resigning himself to a cold and wet night as Levy's ties were finally undone. He held her hand tightly as she struggled not to slip off the saddle and onto the platform. She was shivering, just as soaked as he was in the mere moments. He tugged her back slightly, catching her attention as he leaned closer to her ear so that he wouldn't have to yell over the rain.

"Follow Perion and make sure we get a decent room!"

She nodded, her sodden blue locks flopping sadly against her cheeks and sending water flying his way. Though his shoulders dipped slightly in relief that she understood, he was rather distracted by her hair; his eyes followed the drips of water that slid down to her chin, dropping off to somewhere below them. He could feel himself being pulled towards her, wanting to trail each drip with his lips, making his heart jump erratically in his chest. Was time stopping? He couldn't tell anymore, but it did seem as though everything was moving at a slower rate, dragging the moment out.

She turned to him, her eyes filled with curiosity as she looked at him. Her brow lifted inquisitively, and he jolted when he belatedly realized that he had yet to release her to follow his instructions. Heat bloomed in his cheeks as he let her hand go, refusing to speak in case he began to sputter like a fool. He almost couldn't meet her eyes, bashfully looking somewhere else. He almost missed her tiny gasp, whipping his head away as heat crawled from his neck to the roots of his hair.

A grumble from Panther finally snapped him from the awkward tension, and he nodded shortly at her. "Go," he said, "I'll join you shortly, just let Panther know which Inn Perion has chosen." He patted Panther's shoulder, murmuring a short apology. Levy waited a moment more, then nodded before turning to race after Perion for shelter. Panther then made for the weyr that waited for them, growling as he shook more water from his wings.

'Hmph, any more time and I would've gone on ahead, regardless of your feelings for her,' he sent, snorting as they finally crossed the threshold. Gajeel gripped the saddle tightly, silently cursing Panther's intuitive nature.

"Don't know what yer talkin about," he grumbled, finally untying his own tethers before jumping down to tend to Panther. His jacket was heavier than he realized, and he swore as he pulled it off, watching the water fall in a great gush at his feet as he rung it out. It'll be useless tomorrow, he groaned internally.

'Lying to a dragon? Tch, you're thicker than I thought,' Panther sent drolly, huffing as he lowered himself to the floor of the weyr. The dry hay brushed the underside of his scales, filling the air with quiet chimes. 'I'm no hatchingly, rider. I know what I saw, what you felt. It is as when we fly and we meet my own mate,' he sent, his voice taking on a wistful edge. Gajeel paused, then shook his head vehemently as he draped his jacket over a post.

"She's not like that," he protested, turning to tug at the great buckle keeping the saddle in place. He focused on prying it loose, trying to keep from thinking of how her cheeks almost glittered as she turned to him. How her lips were surprisingly pink in the dim light, or how soft she seemed.

'Of course she's not like that,' Panther's mild voice broke him out of reverie, causing a rush of heat up his neck again. Was he ever going to get a minute without feeling like he was going to spontaneously combust around her? He bit his lip, succeeding in loosening the saddle. He pulled it off, grunting as he let it slide to the floor in a heavy thump.

'But she's not like any others you've had before either,' Panther gently sent, rustling his wings and stretching. He scratched at the hay, building a nest up to hunker down in, then turned to regard the rider. Gajeel only nodded slowly, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the dragon's eye swirl shades of blue. 'Besides,' Panther added, laying his head down. 'If you thought any less of her, you wouldn't have spent so much time making her like you.'

Gajeel scoffed, almost laughing. He turned and leaned on the dragon's side, sliding down the smooth scales till his ass hit the floor. He sighed as he leaned his head back, almost wearily. He couldn't deny that, though in the beginning he'd been ready to leave her alone if she hadn't fascinated him so much. And now, he couldn't get her out of his mind, plaguing his waking thoughts. He'd be lucky, he mused, if he could make it through this mission without embarrassing himself or his dragon. He sat up suddenly, his heart jumping in his chest as he turned to the dragon.

"Wait, like as in how?" He asked, his eyes wide in surprise. "Like as in... like like?"

Panther sighed, rolling his eyes before closing them. ' _If she didn't, she wouldn't have trusted us enough to choose us in this mission. As for what I think you're implying, why don't you ask her?_ ' He sent, irritation lacing his voice. ' _She's on her way back, poor little fool.'_

Confused, Gajeel opened his mouth to protest such a notion when Levy burst into the weyr, panting and soaking wet. She skidded to a stop just in front of him, nearly

slipping in the hay with her muddy boots. She bent over, her hands on her knees as she gasped. Concerned, Gajeel half rose, reaching out with one hand in case she needed steadying. She shivered as she gathered her breath, her shoulders curling inward, and he could see her nose turning a bright red. He bit his tongue before he could swear, and pushed himself up.

"Levy?" He asked, his brow furrowing as he glanced outside. It was still pouring, and getting colder despite the summer heat, he thought, a knot of displeasure growing in his gut. And where was the old fool?

"I-I lost him," she muttered, her head bowed. Her hands slid up her soaked jacket to grip them nervously, squeezing till water dripped over her knuckles. "H-he was too fast... and I couldn't see over the crowd," she finished lamely, still avoiding looking at him. Was she afraid of what he'd do?

He sighed, then reached up to lace his finger through her matted hair and tug her closer, pressing her close to him. She started, clearly surprised, but made no move to retreat. Emboldened, he slid his other arm around her shoulder, awkwardly hugging her in an attempt to comfort her.

"I figured he'd give us the slip in the middle of a storm," he said, leaning back to look at her. She was staring at him, the redness spreading from her nose to her cheeks. He grinned sardonically at her, shrugging his shoulders while his hands moved to grip her own shoulders. "So, we'll find a better place when the storm clears. It'd probably be better than the hovel he'd be forced to pay for anyways."

Levy blinked for a moment, bewildered, then huffed out a quiet laugh as her shoulders sagged in relief. She nodded, then gasped, startling him with a sudden bright smile and giggle. Just as he was about to ask her what was so amusing, she pointed to the saddle pack with a trembling hand.

"We have all the notes from the master anyways, it's not like he can leave us completely penniless," she laughed, her voice taking on a cunning edge. Gajeel paused, then threw his head back in a guffaw. Oh, how the old man would rage over the loss in his coin purse when vouchers from the largest Weyr in the land (not to mention the most powerful) could pay for anything. And he remembered Mira handing him a stuffed pouch while passing him by, threatening him bodily harm if he was too proud to use what was inside.

'Like hell I'd be stupid enough not to,' he thought happily. And Levy must've had a little stash of her own vouchers from the Scriptor's hall, guaranteeing that they'd have access to even the most restricted of Libraries if they needed it. He wouldn't doubt for a second that despite his title, Perion would have a bit harder time trying to find anything. Serves him right, the bastard, thought Gajeel.

A tiny popping noise brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked around to see where it came from. It sounded again, this time with a tiny squeak. Just under his vision, Levy jumped, ducking her head as another noise erupted into the room.

'She's freezing to death, you fool,' came Panther's irritated send, and Gajeel had to bite the urge to laugh again, instead focusing on getting the sneezing girl out of her jacket and tucked up next to the dragon to warm her up. Even her sneeze was too damn adorable, he thought, losing himself to his wandering thoughts again.

~~~*8*~~~~

She wondered if her heart would just jump out her chest and dance on the floor in front of them. It certainly hadn't stopped since they took off, and she doubted that it would anytime soon. Especially now as she sat next to him, her shoulder flush against his arm. It was still pouring outside, but she didn't mind as much with the dragon at their backs, warming her now that she was out of her sopping jacket. It hung next to his, having been rung out as much as possible.

Their clothes were still a bit damp, but there wasn't much they could do about that. At least, when they finally found a place to rest, there was promise of a hot fire and food, and possibly a bed. Though she definitely wouldn't mind staying here for a bit longer.

A soft gust of wind brushed her damp locks, and she shivered, gulping as she hugged her knees tighter. It wouldn't do to get sick now, especially when they were supposed to continue flying tomorrow. It was a death wish to do so, anyone who flew sick risked fire-head, a dangerous illness that often afflicted riders more than commoners. Still, she didn't want to take any risk of falling ill, wanting to be more useful than she felt at the moment. She leaned closer to Gajeel, hoping that he didn't mind her cuddling close to get warmer.

She nearly jumped in surprise when his arm lifted, and wrapped itself around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. She was sure that her cheeks had been set ablaze, they felt so hot. She resisted looking up at him for the umpteenth time, grateful that he couldn't see her embarrassment. He sighed slowly, his chest rising and falling against her made that resistance crumble, and she sneaked a peek at him. His head was resting against the dragon's side, his eyes closed in what seemed to be an attempt to sleep while waiting for the storm to pass. It wasn't a bad idea, she mused as she softly snuggled next to him, not wanting to disturb him. But she couldn't relax, not when her nerves were shot and her blood pounded in her ears.

She was sure that he'd be upset earlier, having failed to even find Perion in the storm. She barely made it halfway down main street before ducking under an awning, nearly despairing as she gazed in the direction that the dragon master had gone. But in the rain, it was difficult to even recognize his figure, and there were other, larger people rushing around as well. To make matters even more difficult, she wasn't sure where the inn even was, forcing her to give up and turn around.

To her utter shock, the Rider was far gentler than she anticipated, even supported her. She had just caught her breath to have it stolen away when he hugged her, sending her heart racing when he beamed at her. And it was all she could do to keep from swaying as he began helping her out of her jacket, sending Panther indignant glares.

Lectured by the dragon? Why, it was endearing, and she couldn't help the smile she flashed at the black dragon as Gajeel guided her to him, pointing out the warmest spot to rest on while he took care of her soaked jacket.

Panther was indeed warmer than she expected, but she partially blamed that on the chilly rain. She definitely hadn't expected Gajeel to be even warmer once he plunked down next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. Then, Panther had wrapped his giant wing around the pair, blanketing them against most of the chill air. But for the most part, she was cozier here than she was in her own bed!

She could feel her head begin to grow heavy, refusing to stay upright. Her eyes were sliding shut easier and staying shut as time went on, lulled by the rain on the roof. Her head finally rested on his shoulder, and she could feel herself relaxing.

She didn't remember falling asleep, only the last thought before finally succumbing to the pull was that she'd rather be nowhere else but here.

~~~~*8*~~~~

Night was setting across the mountains when the last of the storm finally passed, clouds breaking apart to a starry sky. But there was no love for the tiny pinpricks of light from the figure standing on the balcony overlooking the mountains. The damp air hung heavily around him, chilling him as the breeze picked up slightly. He wrapped his cloak tighter around him, sighing as he lost himself to his thoughts. Despite his dislike for the weather, it was by far more peaceful out here than it was in the mountain keep.

The riders that lounged deeper in the keep had been in a foul mood lately, despite their proud victory over the destruction of a town. Their leader had proclaimed that because it was not only a larger village, but the village that would finally spark a war with the largest Weyr, finally giving the bored riders something bigger to chew on.

The man scoffed as he turned on his heel, retreating back to his room. He hoped that they'd drunk their fill of the pilfered drink; he needed peace and quiet to start the next phase of the testing on the dragons. Perhaps he ought to start testing on them to docile them more. After all, they were just as beastly as their mounts, though not as ugly as the unfortunate things.

He tossed off his tunic, scowling as thrumming reverberated from the deeper parts of the mountain. 'So,' he thought grimly as he reached for a chime. 'It'll be the mounts that disturb me tonight. Unfortunate.'

He had little pity for the things that lived below him, despite being created by his own hands. Yet, he couldn't quite call them his. Not yet, they weren't perfected and needed more time.

He sighed as he sat at his desk, reaching for the latest reports that the labs left for him. There had been little progress in the technique he was using, and the ancient scripts refused to give him any more clues, despite the years of studying the dead language. Nothing in all of his training helped; he'd consider himself lucky that he had made it as far as he did with what he learned. But it wasn't enough, never enough to truly dissect how the dragons were created.

He'd be called a heretic back home, a monster for playing with things not meant to be played with. And if they could see what he'd done now, well, horrified was a rather polite term for their reaction. Then, there'd be anger. Lots of anger and disgust. Lectures of taboo and betrayal of the dragon kind.

All boring and tiring as hell.

Frankly, he didn't care if he was hurting the old ways. Or threatening the future. Fifty years of thread free skies proved that dragons were absolutely useless to those living a regular life. Useless and a drain on supplies that most couldn't live without. And dragon games?

He snorted derisively as a timid knock sounded at his door, almost drowned out by the turmoil from the dragons. He really needed to find a better compound to settle the dragons for good, then he could continue with even grander plans. But the gaps in the texts still eluded him, foiling any hopes of quick success.

He tossed the report away as the serving waif entered his room, bowing low nervously. He hid the shudder of revulsion as she waited for his order. She had been brought here as a prize from one of the groups' raiding ventures, her face bloodied from a rider's knife that marked her as loot. He hated the slaves that the riders brought in, half never lasted a full month of being brought in. She was one of the few unlucky ones that lasted more than the status quo.

"Tell the Keeper that I have no qualms on eliminating this batch of dragons if he can't keep them quiet, him along with them if he tarries too long." He said, his voice cool and collected. It hid the icy chill he reserved for the hardiest of the riders when they chose to disobey him.

The girl gulped, then nodded slowly as she crawled backwards away from him. "Y-yes, Lord Scriptor," she mumbled.

A surge of fire hot anger went through him, snapping him out of his cold demeanor. He snatched a glass vial off of the desk and threw it at her, shattering it against her head. She shrieked, scrabbling back as he launched himself out of the chair and stormed towards her. He froze when she looked at him, barely stilling a gasp as she pleaded with him, apologizing profusely as tears ran down her ruined face. But her eyes stirred an ugly feeling in his gut, causing a cold anger to rear its head as memories slipped through his mind.

How could you?!

How could you do that?! To me!?

He gritted his teeth as the anger washed over him, loosening his frozen limbs. He'd remove those eyes, her eyes that forever judged him and condemned him for his choice. She, who once sang his praises alongside that golden beast she was chained to, who had fallen silent once he had broken that chain and cursed his name when she finally came to. She hadn't been the only one to curse him, but her voice had been the loudest, shrill with emotion that was lost on him.

She hadn't understood it at the time, and still probably didn't, but he had tried to free her from the terrible bond that riders faced once chosen by their mounts. It was nothing less than slavery of a different kind, forcing the riders and dragons into a partnership that rivaled even the closest of human bonds.

He hated it.

He hated that he could never have that with her. He had known her longer than her dragon was alive, yet she had loved the little beast faster than she had ever come to love him. And then... those words once her dragon had screamed and disappeared, the sound of her own scream grating against his ears and curdling his blood...

He blinked, coming back to his senses. The screaming had stopped, and he let out a slow breath, looking down at the slave girl. He didn't remember reaching for anything

sharp, yet there she lay, motionless and bloodied. Her eyes had been gouged out, and her jaw nearly torn off as her mouth had been stretched till her cheeks tore. He glanced at his hands, mildly surprised to find a letter opener grasped in one hand and dripping in blood.

He sighed in disgust, tossing the tiny slip of metal away and stepping over the girl's body. Looks like they'll have to find yet another plaything for the time being, he mused as he ventured out of his room, heading towards the dragon's weyr. The slave wasn't the only thing he was going to silence tonight.


End file.
